


Permets-tu?

by outofaith



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Artist Grantaire, Bottom Enjolras, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cute Enjolras, Dom/sub Undertones, Enjolras Was A Charming Young Man Who Was Capable Of Being Terrible, Enjolras is the biggest mama's boy, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, F/M, Family Fluff, Frank Sinatra - Freeform, French Enjolras, Grantaire is amused, M/M, Pet Names, Slow Dancing, Top Grantaire, Virgin Enjolras, You can't convince me otherwise, and daddy's boy, but not really, italian grantaire, like blink and you'll miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofaith/pseuds/outofaith
Summary: Grantaire meets Enjolras' parents during Christmas. He is more than a little surprised.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Permets-tu?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Apparently I'm only able to write Christmas Enjoltaire fluff!
> 
> A few things before you guys start to read it:
> 
> I have a bunch of Enjoltaire headcanons and I've discovered that most of them I share with the amazing Riri! So I've talked to her and asked permission to borrow a few of her ideas; For example the boys' names. So, if you're looking for what is, in my personal and not humble at all opinion, the best Enjoltaire content on Tumblr, you can find her in @cumbercookiebatchs.
> 
> Now, if what you're looking for is shit-posts, mixed fandoms, random art and architecture and weird personal rants that may or may not make you worry for my wellbeing, you can always find me in @outofaith. I'm not actually Grantaire but frankly, we have so many similarities that it does become weird (and probably something to talk about with my therapist!)
> 
> Alright! Now I'm shutting up! 
> 
> Enjoy the fic!

Grantaire had been observing Enjolras for a very long time. Perhaps he should be ashamed of it, after all it could be interpreted as creepy; No matter, it had been a long time since he had last dwelled on the matter.

He had been drawn to the blonde man in a way he had never experienced and, before he knew it, he found himself realizing that it had gone farther than blind adoration, at some point down the line he had fallen for him, irrevocably so.

And Enjolras was, in Grantaire’s opinion, a marble sculpture come to life; The closest to perfection as a human being could be. He bore only one single flaw, arguably the most dangerous possible one: Enjolras was a believer. He carried with him a deep rooted faith in the good of humanity. A fact that Grantaire, from personal experience alone, knew to be ridiculous; His opinion was one that he made sure to externalize, and loudly so, during their meetings at the Musain. 

In all fairness, Grantaire had tried to keep it to himself, hiding his derisive expression behind a glass of something or another, sometimes finding his stomach to be on the receiving end of a sharp elbow which belonged to Eponine, but only when his incredulity became loud enough to be overheard. He couldn’t remember what it was that finally had him tossing all caution to the wind and pointedly informing Enjolras that his passionate faith in society was no more than a delusion. Like expected, his blatant skepticism and roaring cynicism had not received a warm welcome from the leader dressed in a red jumper.

They had argued for months, trading thinly veiled insults and scathing disdainful words. It all came to a halt one night during a gathering at Jehan and Montparnasse’s new place. Their friends had overindulged in the cheap and shitty wine they were all sharing and ended up falling asleep in different and most certainly uncomfortable positions in the small living room; Bahorel in particular, he had, somehow, fallen asleep in the corner of the room, leaning against one of Montparnasse’s decorative skulls and hugging Jehan’s largest potted plant.

Grantaire stepped outside for a much needed cigarette and Enjolras had, for some reason, followed him on the chilly autumn night. They talked then; At first it was awkward, full of stilted half sentences and pointed silences. However, they ended up talking until the first rays of sunshine started painting the sky, surprising the two of them when they decided to continue the conversation over breakfast and steaming cups of coffee on a little diner down the street.

After that, angry rants and scathing spiels gave way to long debates and attentive looks. Grantaire learned that Enjolras had decided at some point in his young life that his mission on this Earth was to give back the voice to those who had their own stolen from them; Facing the world like a vengeful angel, a righteous man to his core. Grantaire decided right then that he had never stood a chance when it came to Enjolras, that he was physically unable to avoid loving the blonde man with high cheekbones and fierce blue eyes. And how could he? That of which we lack attracts us. It was as simple as night and day and a situation as old as time: No one loves the light like the blind man. 

Even so, he resigned himself to the fact that his feelings, as strong as they were, were never going to be reciprocated by Enjolras. He was the embodiment of everything that was right in the world and Grantaire was too flawed and tainted to even entertain the idea of tarnishing such a soul.

Enjolras didn’t share Grantaire’s musings and had very bluntly, even if his pale porcelain face had been adorned by a rosy blush, stated that Grantaire should take him out on a date, for he would do it himself but never in his life he had been to one. Much too annoyed by the previous admirers who asked him out without even bothering with talking to him, just confessing to be bewitched by his appearance.

So Grantaire took him out for dinner at his favorite chinese restaurant, the same one where the owners knew him by name and asked if he would like his usual before he had the chance to open the menu. 

Two months of going out on the most diverse types of dates and truly getting to know one another had gone by before Grantaire asked if Enjolras would like to, maybe, meet his sorella and his mamma who had been asking about his boyfriend for weeks; And, just like that, they fell into a relationship.

Grantaire got to truly know his boyfriend and his blind devotion became an array of feelings that were finally based on the person behind the stone marble façade and blazing passionate eyes.

He discovered that Enjolras, like any other human being, had his fair share of flaws and, even if some of them annoyed the hell out of the artist, it only served to make his love grow deeper, at last admitting to himself that he deserved to be in the relationship and deserved to be loved by the man whose soul emmaneted a blinding light.

And that’s why he was so thoroughly shocked when, during the visit they paid to his boyfriend’s childhood home to spend the holidays, he discovered that Enjolras - the same man that, despite being youthful, handsome, and charming was still capable of being terrible, glaring and fighting for justice, staring down police officers twice his size during rallies - was probably the biggest mama's and daddy’s little boy to ever exist.

Hugging his parents and clinging to them as he made the introductions; His father, an imposing man who looked to be stern and unforgiving when conducting his business, assessed Grantaire for a long time before extending his hand for a handshake with a grip just a bit too strong to pass as friendly; Informing Grantaire that he’d better be taking good care of his only son and, if not, the two of them would be having a conversation. It was only when Enjolras spoke up, his voice taking on a whining tone, not much different from a little kid, and his pink lips forming an endearing and very much unexpected pout, that Grantaire came to the realization that perhaps there were some parts of Enjolras that were still in need of discovering. The blonde nineteen-year-old had stepped out of his mother’s embrace, his arms wrapping around his father before surprising Grantaire with his words: “Maman, please tell Papa not to scare my boyfriend away; I promise you two will get along just fine Papa,”

And the tall man had looked down to his son, his hand resting on the top of his head and his eyes softening to a fond look, lips quirking into a doting smile, “Alright, mon petit oiseau; Come on, your mother and I want to get to know your boyfriend”

They had all moved to the living room to talk over tea and cake, Grantaire had spent a good portion of it trying to hide his nervousness and avoid gawking at the enormous house. By the time they moved to the dining room, eating a delicious supper that Enjolras’ mother prepared, making sure to cook his favorite food, Grantaire was feeling at ease and at home. His boyfriend’s parents seemed to genuinely like him, pleasantly surprised to learn that they shared many interests and much too endeared of their son’s blatant happiness.

It went well, after all. Grantaire’s shock only returning, bringing along with it a small portion of amusement once he took notice of Enjolras’ mortified expression, when Leon informed him that Grantaire would be sleeping in the guest bedroom, followed by Nicolette’s small, stifled laugh at her son’s embarrassed blush and his boyfriend’s thinly veiled dread, “Oh, don’t pout now, mon colibri; I’m sure you and Raffaello will be just fine sleeping in different rooms for a few days,”

“For a few days?” Leon turned to her with shocked eyes; His unhappy gaze settling over Enjolras who looked like he’d rather melt into the floor, “Michel-Ange, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

Enjolras’ face was flushed a deep rosy color, “Maman?” His eyes were pleading as they turned to his mother and Grantaire just tried his very best not to let his growing amusement show, “Leon, please;” Nicolette rolled her blue eyes, much like her son’s, “Ange is an adult and is perfectly capable of making his own choices; Now come on, let’s go upstairs and get ready for bed, I’m sure the boys would like a little bit of time alone so they can talk,”

Her husband still looked like he wanted nothing more than to throttle Grantaire for the mere suggestion of the fact that he was sharing his son’s bed, but still he allowed his wife to guide him away from the living room and to the second floor.

As soon as they stepped out of the grand room, Grantaire turned so he was looking at his boyfriend, his expression open and his face splitting in a wide, smug grin, “So,” He started feigning nonchalance and Enjolras shot him a warning look, “Aw, come on cuore mio;” Grantaire laughed gently as he stepped closer to the blonde, grasping his hand and pulling him close to his chest until Enjolras smaller body was wrapped in his arms, his blonde head barely reaching Grantaire’s chin, “Why are you so embarrassed all of a sudden, mhm?” He hummed, deft fingers touching Enjolras usually pale cheek but which seemed to be permanently tainted red.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He deflected, his eyes stubbornly staring down to where his small hands were playing with the buttons of Grantaire’s shirt; The italian artist fondly rolled his eyes and Enjolras huffed before talking again, “I just didn’t realize how overprotective my parents could be,”

“Well, I think it’s rather cute,” Grantaire confessed and Enjolras’ eyes snapped up to meet his, “You’re their only son, Apollo; It’s only natural for them to be like that,”

Enjolras gifted him with a small smile, “The fact that you’re my first boyfriend probably adds to that,”

And Grantaire smiled again; He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be the one that Enjolras granted with the honor of loving him. At first Grantaire was a bit nervous; When Enjolras admitted to him during their third date that he’d never been in a relationship of any kind, blushing scarlet when Grantaire looked at him, shock written all over his face; At last confessing that he was worried Grantaire would get bored of him given the fact that not only the italian was the first one to take him out on a date, he was also the first one to kiss him.

Well, Grantaire, after his astonishment wore off, felt like singing his thanks to his lucky stars. Enjolras was always the one to take the lead in everything he did. Always in charge, never doubting himself, always the one that everyone else followed no matter what. But between the two of them, he had no problem in giving up control and gladly let himself be guided.

Probably the biggest surprise of it all came when they had slept together for the first time. Enjolras had been nervous, but he had approached Grantaire the previous week and told him in a small voice that he was ready for it. So Grantaire had decided to make it as special as he could, if only to ease the tension. He used his key to get into Enjolras’ flat while the blonde was in class; He cooked dinner, brought him a bouquet of freesias - Enjolras’ favorite flowers. Around the bedroom he placed the scented candles they bought for special occasions. Enjolras was flustered and nervous, but he was still smiling as he allowed Grantaire to take him apart slowly, little by little stripping him of his defences, until all that was left were miles of pale, porcelain skin; Long, curly blonde hair spread like a halo around his head; And Grantaire didn’t fuck him, not that night. No, he took things slow, gentle; He guided Enjolras and made love to him, whispering in his ear praises of how good he was doing; He called him “sweet thing” and “la mia vita” and Enjolras answered him with breathless little sounds and high pitched whines.

“Do you suppose your parents will mind if we listened to some music?” Grantaire asked him and Enjolras tilted his head, much like a little kitten.

“I don’t think so; I don’t think they’ll be able to hear it all the way from their bedroom,” Grantaire kissed his forehead before stepping away, fishing his phone from the pocket of his jeans and scrolling down until he found what he was looking for.

Enjolras was looking at him curiously, his entire face lighting up when the song finally started.

_Some day, when I'm awfully low  
When the world is cold  
I will feel a glow just thinking of you  
And the way you look tonight_

Grantaire walked up to his boyfriend again; Enjolras was smiling that same little smile that never failed to make him weak, the private one, his Grantaire-smile. The italian artist stopped just shy of the french blonde, offering him his hand which, for once, didn’t have colorful paint smudges: “Permets-tu?” Grantaire asked him, the same words he had been repeating ever since they started dating. Much like their own, private way of saying “I love you,”.

Enjolras smiled and took his hand, gently nodding as he let the italian guide him through the moves as they swayed around the large living room of his childhood home. 

_Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm  
And your cheeks so soft  
There is nothing for me but to love you  
And the way you look tonight  
With each word your tenderness grows  
Tearin' my fear apart  
And that laugh, wrinkles your nose  
Touches my foolish heart_

He followed Grantaire’s lead. From the corner of the room came the green and red twinkling of the Christmas lights. The room’s lights were dimmed and the large marble fireplace made it feel cozy and intimate. Enjolras giggled, a sound he would never allow anyone else to hear, when Grantaire twirled him before pulling him back to his chest.

_Lovely, never, never change  
Keep that breathless charm  
Won't you please arrange it?  
'Cause I love you  
A-just the way you look tonight  
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose  
It touches my foolish heart  
Lovely, don't you ever change  
Keep that breathless charm  
Won't you please arrange it?  
'Cause I love you  
A-just the way you look tonight_

They kept moving slowly as the song faded away, wrapped up in their little bubble; Enjolras’ hands holding Grantaire’s strong shoulders as the italian’s arms hugged his waist. Grantaire’s lips pressing softly to the blonde hair.

So wrapped up in one another that they were that neither noticed the man at the entrance of the room, looking at the young couple with a gentle smile. Leon didn’t say anything, just turned around as quietly as he had arrived, back to his bedroom and his wife. While he knew that Nicolette was right when she said that Michel-Ange was an adult, he would forever be the petit ange who needed his Papa to protect him from the world. Perhaps he ought to give his son’s boyfriend a chance anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked that! If you did, please consider leaving me some kudos and a comment!
> 
> Happy holidays!


End file.
